


The Practical Applications of Spellcasting

by blue_noize



Category: The Magicians (TV), Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Brainwashing, Demons, Dubcon Tones, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Fairies, Gods, Hedge Witch!Keith, Hedge Witches, Illusions, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Mental Torture, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Magic, Magician!Lance, Mentions of Death, Mentions of alcohol, Mentions of drugs, Niffins, Non-Canon Compliant for the Magicians, Spells and Rituals, endgame klance, keith/lotor - Freeform, magicians au, mental manipulation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-02 09:03:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16783873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_noize/pseuds/blue_noize
Summary: It’s been two years since that incident that took Keith’s entire life away.  Brakebills stole his memory, his magic, everything because of one mistake.  Now he leads a fulfilling existence with the Hedges, with his mentor.But during one routine visit to the Underworld Branch of the Library, to find a book that Lotor sent him to find, Keith meets someone he thought had fled from his life forever.Lance knows something isn’t right.  He knows that whoever, or whatever, is making Keith attempt this level of magic isn’t looking out for his own good, but its going to take a lot more than hidden messages to break Keith of Lotor’s manipulation, to keep the man he loves from becoming a being lost to the energy and magic, a Niffin.





	1. Once More, With Feeling!

**Author's Note:**

> I recently finished watching the third season of the Magicians, a show that aired on SYFY in 2015. The show, which is still ongoing, I believe. It’s based on the series of books by Lev Grossman. I’ve become kind of obsessed with it lately, and am currently looking for the books to read. 
> 
> This story, an endgame Keith/Lance, takes place in a separate timeline, one in which ***spoilers*** Julia kept her god-touched powers, magic was brought back into the world, etc. This story takes place a few years after Quentin’s journey. 
> 
> I really hope you guys like this story. It’s been a challenge to write, because of all the Lotor stuff. And a warning, there are going to be quite a lot of it, Lotor scenes I mean.

Boot covered feet pounded through the silent hallways of the Underworld Branch of the Library, followed by a loud, extended squeak as a hooded figure swung around the corner.

"Shit, shit, shit!"

Keith had been in this Branch of the Library for far too long already, and he  _ still _ hadn't found what he was looking for. Grasping into one of the corner shelves, the noirette skimmed through the hundreds of books there, the glittering, golden script on their spines shining in the fluorescent bulbs that hung overhead.

"It's not  _ here _ !" he hissed, kicking at the bottom of the shelf. He then cursed himself immediately afterwards for doing so. The clang of the steel toe of his boot echoed through the halls, banging against the walls to, no doubt, carry the sound to the nearest Librarian. 

How could he not find it? Why wasn't the book here? The last time he'd broken in, it had been  _ right...here _ . He'd even done a locator spell before coming  _ just _ to make sure that it would be there! "Could someone have checked it out?" Impossible. The spell would have told him so. And why would they? No one came to this side of the Library.

A gloved hand raked through raven tresses in stress and annoyance, pushing his hood to his shoulders. The Library, despite the fact that Keith was almost  _ positive _ that someone would have come for him by now, was silent around him. 

The only sound that could be heard was his own labored breathing from sprinting in and out of aisles and narrowly escaping the anger or a BookWyrm, the dragon having spat fire at him through the book drop. It had known that he wasn't supposed to be there, and well, Keith hadn't through the whole let's-look-in-the-hole-the-scary-dragon-is-in plan through.

His jacket was singed, and he could almost taste the burnt edges of the fabric at the smoke and the sparks that flew up with every movement. It wasn't  _ technically _ Keith's first time in the Underworld Branch. 

To he honest, he'd been here a lot in the past few weeks, the amount if materials the Hedges needed having increased exponentially. They had to have been planning one whopper of a spell. But that didn't mean that he had memorized the entire layout. The place was  _ huge _ , and the BookWyrm resided directly underneath the building, so it popped out in several different book drops. Wasn't Keith's fault that he had chosen the one drop that the dragon has been at.

"For fucks sake," the noirette grumbled, turning in a slow circle as he scrubbed his fingers against his scalp.  _ I need to get this book. I can't leave without it. He'll be so pissed if I don't get it! _

Groaning under his breath, Keith did one last quick rotation, the messenger bag he had strapped around his shoulders swinging wildly to smack against a shelf. The impact knocked several books from their places, the leather bound volumes landing heavily on the floor. Keith stooped to pick them up. He didn't want anyone to know he was here, and books being on the floor was a definite sign of intrusion.

The volumes were heavy, easily six hundred pages thick, and they thumped softly as Keith piled one on top of another, intent on putting them back in their places. As he was doing so, he noted the title of one of the heavier books in the pile.  _ A Comprehensive Guide on the Niffen Phenomenon _ . Keith's cesious eyes caught on the word Niffen. He'd heard of them, knew how dangerous they could be, but he never thought that he would just randomly  _ find _ an actual book on them. They weren't that rare of a creature...being...thing? But being invisible to the naked eye, they were surprisingly hard to get a hold of.

"Helps that they're made of pure energy," Keith muttered, rising to his feet so he could out the rest of the leather bound times back on their shelf. This book was coming with him; it had caught his eye and now he wanted to read more about it. It wasn't book that he had been looking for, but it was something, and that was better than nothing at all.

Hedges were always looking for more knowledge. They didn't have the same access to books and research materials like the students of Brakebills or the Librarians, so breaking into such establishments as the Underworld Branch of the Library were the only chance they got to learn more than they could on their own through trial and error. 

And Keith was no different.

Knowledge was power, especially when it came to magic.

Sliding the Niffin book into his bag, the noirette scanned the area around, looking beneath a shelf to make sure no one was around. And there wasn't anyone, but that in and of itself was very disconcerting. This Branch of the Library was ginormous; how could there not be a single Librarian or loaner around? Something wasn't right, and it put Keith on edge.

"I should get out of here." He hadn't found what he was looking for, a book on the intricacies of Hands-Free magic, but he'd already been here for far longer than he'd meant to. The Traveler that was waiting for him was probably getting impatient by now. Romelle was good at what she did, but she hated being kept waiting. "Okay. Okay let's go," the noirette muttered one last time before turning to run out of the aisle.

Unfortunately for Keith, the way out was blocked.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Keith, again?"

The word spoken were tinged with a mixture of incredulity and disappointment. Keith blinked, his shoulders coming up in surprise.  _ What the hell is he doing here? _ He'd made sure that the man wouldn't be here! Chosen this day  _ specifically _ so he wouldn't run into him and yet here he was! Blocking the only way out!

"Lance, listen, I don’t have time for this," Keith started, taking a step back that was meant to be silent but sounded far too much like a cannon going off in the uncomfortable silence of the Library for Keith's liking. "I need you to move!"

The brunet before him sighed and crossed his arms, looking down at Keith with cerulean eyes filled with the same feeling as his words had been. The cashmere sweater he wore bunched up over his chest, deep wrinkles warping the soft surface. "I can't just let you walk out of here so easily," Lance told Keith, shifting his weight from one loafer covered foot to the other. "Not this time." His voice was low, but the sound still bounced off the shelves of books and the concrete walls around them, making it sound far louder in Keith's ears than it actually was. The noirette felt panic start to set in at Lance's words, sweat slicking his palms underneath his gloves. It gave the fabric a strange, squeaky feeling that did nothing for his nerves.

Keith hissed, "Please! It's  _ just a book _ !"

"The book isn't the problem here Keith!" the brunet yelled back, throwing his long arms out to rest his palms against either side of the aisle, and Keith shot forward to slap his hands over Lance's mouth.

" _ Shhh! _ "

"Is something going on over there?" another voice called, and Keith was sure that this time it was a Librarian.

Underneath Keith's gloved hands, Lance let out a muffled word, brunet brows pinched together in annoyance. It sounded remarkably like, "gross", but Keith couldn't be sure, not when he was now struggling to pull Lance further into the aisle. He was not going to get caught right now. Not today. He had way too many things to do and this was not going to be the end of it all.

Lance's feet stayed planted right to the spot, refusing to move even an inch, even as Keith gripped into the taller man's wrist and yanked with one hand. "Lance  _ please _ ," he hissed, reduced to begging this infuriating man, which was something he never thought he would have to do. In all the times he had run into Lance, the main Branch's on-loan Librarian-in-training, he'd never had to say more than two words to him, never sticking around to say more than a see-ya.

And yet here he was.

Finally tired of struggling, Keith took a step back and quickly signed out a cloak spell, sending the entire aisle into darkness as an illusory scene descended over them, just as a Librarians heels clicked against the tile a few feet away.

Keith grabbed back onto Lance's wrists, this time yanking as hard as he possibly could, the brunet caught off guard by the sudden inky darkness around them. He probably let out a squeak of surprise as he fell forward against Keith's chest, balance lost. Keith wrapped one arm around the man's shoulders, the other held his hand against Lance's mouth, just in case.

The spell didn't just shut out visibility, you see; it also acted as if space had inhabited the area, blocking out all sight and sound. The lack of light made the aisle chill considerably, goosebumps rising along Keith's arms even as his entire body was covered in stress-induced sweat, the moisture cooling in the air.

"I could have sworn someone was over here," the Librarian whispered, confusion apparent in her voice, her accent carrying a lilt of amusement. "It was probably just someone trying out a ventriloquist spell." There was a light chuckle and then several clicks as the Librarian walked away.

Her footsteps receded into the distance before a door shut, and Keith undid the spell, letting the darkness fade. The light sprung up, stinging at his eyes. He'd never get used to that, the way that spells made his eyes hurt, especially when he wasn't wearing his glasses.  _ But people know me by my glasses. I can't just wear them on a theft mission like this. _ It wasn't even that he really needed them. They just helped him focus.

Keith glanced down at Lance as he struggled to regain his balance. Keith had almost sent the man to his knees, and his loafers were sliding against the carpet beneath them. He still had arms firmly locked around the brunet, holding him in place against Keith's chest.

From underneath Keith's hand, Lance grumbled, "Let go of me, mullet, or I'll blast you out of here so quick."

Keith rolled his eyes, even though it made them hurt more. "You can't touch me with any of your magic, and you know it," Keith quipped back, but he did let the man go. Sadly, for Lance anyway, the brunet hadn’t been able to get his footing back quite yet, so he went sprawling backwards to land right on his ass on the floor.

"The fuck, Keith!?"

"You told me to let you go."

"I didn't mean drop me!"

"Will you stop yelling?" Keith finally hissed out, a little scared that all the noise would call the Librarian back, and that was the last thing that he needed. Getting caught by Lance was one thing; Keith was far fas er with his signing than Lance was, but getting caught by a Librarian? That would definitely mean punishment, and given Keith's track record with this place? Well. It wouldn't be a fun time.

Then again, when was dealing with the Library ever fun?

"I'm going to leave now," Keith muttered, watching as Lance scrambled to his feet. The brunet righted his clothing, shaking out his limbs as Keith yanked his hood back up and stuck a finger towards Lance. "Now, you can either actually call someone to come and get me for once or you can let me go." The noirette turned quickly, boot heels landing heavily along the carpet as he walked away from Lance. "Your choice."

This song and dance was nothing new. Lance always managed to catch Keith in the act of stealing from the Library, but he never actually did anything about it. Either he was too scared of what Keith could do (which was entirely plausible considering their first encounter), or he didn't  _ actually _ want Keith to get caught.

By the time Keith made it to the end of the aisle, hopping lightly on the balls of his feet to get ready to sprint back to where Romelle was waiting, he was positive that this encounter would be no different than the last. As he turned to look back at the brunet, Keith saw several emotions flash through Lance's blue eyes, fists clenching at his sides.

"You can always just stop, you know," Lance called just as Keith was about to kick off and run, making him pause mid stride. His boot slide against the floor and stopped him dead in his tracks.

"What?"

Keith was confused. Why would Lance say that? What did he mean? Did he mean for Keith to stop stealing? Or was it to stop running with the Hedges. Neither were desirable for someone who was kicked out of Brakebills and had his memory wiped. Not that the wipe had done any good. Keith had been intent and stuck in his ways for that. He wanted to be a Magician so badly; his resolve have him a strange resistance to memory wipes.

"What, Lance?" Keith threw the words at the brunet when he didn't answer after several beats, and he turned back to Lance. "What should I stop doing, huh?"

"All of this."

Keith threw up his hands in incredulity. "Oh, yes because  _ that _ answers all of my questions." He stomped forward, despite the niggling thought at the back of his mind to just leave it. But Lance was just being too frustrating right now. "Stop being so damn cryptic, man. It benefits exactly zero percent of any situation right now. If you want me to do something, tell me what the fuck it is and stop being a fortune cookie!" With each step closer, Keith voice got louder and louder.

What did Lance know? He didn't understand how  _ hard _ it was to get thrown out of the one place you had felt at home. He didn't know what it was like to have everyone turn against you, strip you of what you care for most, and force you to survive in a world that hates you. Everything Keith has done, and was still doing, was to make sure that he would still be able to use magic, even if he had to steal to do it. He didn't care.

Magic was his life.

He couldn't just exist without it.

"All I'm saying is that you don't have to do this. Just come back to Brakebills."

Manic laughter bubbled up in Keith's throat, and it sounded strangely similar to a sob as it shot from him. "Just go back? What makes you think I  _ want _ to come back!?"

Lance sighed. "I can see it in your eyes whenever anyone says the name. You want to come back, so you should."

"I can't!" Keith yelped out, throwing his arms wide. "They  _ expelled _ me, Lance; you should know that! It was all over the campus and the Library for  _ years _ ! I can't go back! Even if I wanted to, I couldn't!"

That seemed to take Lance aback, the raised cadence of Keith's voice making him flinch. For a moment, Keith felt anger surge in his blood, felt power crackle at his fingertips, at the way Lance seemed just so  _ clueless _ That it was infuriating, but it faded quickly as he saw pity make its way into Lance's expression.

"I don't want your pity," Keith murmured, all of the frantic emotions that has been circling in his chest fiddling out in a little spark of loneliness and loss. Lance had been right. Keith  _ did _ want to go back, but it was also goddamn true that he just couldn't. Fogg would never let him, not in a billion years.

But that didn't matter. Keith had other duties to attend to, thing he had to do for the people who were actually loyal to him, the ones that had broken his memory wipe and gave him a place to be himself. He didn't Brakebills, not when he had the Hedges. They were his family and he wasn't going to let them down. "What I want is to be able to leave with my memory intact, so don't stop me again."

With that, Keith turned his back on the brunet. He was leaving; this time nothing was going to keep him from doing so.

"Keith."

He didn't want to stop.  _ Just ignore him and leave. _ He should. Romelle was waiting. The Hedges were probably getting impatient. There were far too many things to take care of.

And yet, his feet slowed, because Lance's voice was so low, so soft that it sort of caught Keith off guard. Lance was always the upbeat, loud, always in everyone's business type. He was never this quiet, and it was out of character enough that Keith turned to look at him.

"What, Lance?"

"Here." The brunet offered his hand forward, a thin, hardcover book held between his fingers. The spine was facing Keith, and he could just make out the gold, painted script. It was the book he had been looking for, basically a  _ Hands Free Spellcasting for Dummies _ manual kind of deal.

The entire work was probably a bunch of bullshit, if Keith was being completely honest with himself. The only ones who could do that kind of magic were gods and demons, neither of which would stoop so low as to work with the Hedges. But Keith had been tasked to get it, a direct assignment from him, and he was going to make him proud. So at this point, even though his gut was telling him to forget Lance's offered hand and bolt, he knew he had to accept it.

Still...Keith, being the naturally suspicious creature that he was, held himself back. "Why are you just...giving it to me?" he asked, sinking his hands into his jacket pockets. One of them now had a hole because of the BookWyrm, but that hardly mattered at the moment. "If someone saw you giving it to me, you could get in a shitload of trouble."

"You're right," Lance said, nodding in agreement, and he threw a smirk Keith's way. "If someone saw me, I could. But no one's around, and something tells me that you really need this book, that there’s something in there that could help you.”

Now that just made the hairs on the back of Keith's neck stand on end, a line of goosebumps shivering down his spine. Why would he have said that? "And what's telling you that?"

"My gut."

"You sure that's not just gas?" Keith quipped, Lance's smirk a little infectious even as the urge to run stampede through his veins. Something was very wrong about this entire situation, yet he couldn't tell what. Something about that book wasn't right.

"I'm sure," said the brunet as he took a step forward to meet Keith as he walked closer to him. He leaned down and flipped open the flap of Keith's bag, sliding the book inside. "Who knows. Maybe it'll help you out with more than just fending off your  _ superiors _ ."

_ What the hell does that mean? _

But he didn't get a chance to ask out loud.

"Lance? Are you ready to go?"

Another stranger's voice cut through the little bubble that had formed around them, letting Keith's veneer of calm shatter like glass and plummet to the floor. Lance's eyes widened in surprise, the whites if his eyes showing unnaturally above his irises.

This time, Keith didn't wait for anyone or anything to stop him. Yanking his hood further down over his eyes, he turned tail and ran, even as he heard Lance call, "Keith, wait!" behind him. 

Keith wasn't going to wait. Not when someone was about to come around the corner any second, probably to turn him in and get his memory wiped again. Or worse, he'd end up a slave to the Library for the next billion years. He didn't bother masking his footsteps. He just needed to get out.

As Keith ran, the books in his bag thumped against his hip, each pounding stride making the strap dig into his shoulder. To be honest, the panic in his veins was basically forcing his brain into autopilot. He didn't even stop think about how this path could lead him straight into the way of a Librarian.

Keith had no idea where he was going, but his lungs were beginning to burn and his vision was starting to swim. He didn't really care if Lance caught him. He could always escape from that, and Lance was harmless. If anything, he was the closest thing to a friend that Keith still had in the Magician's world, if you could even call the brunet that.

They'd gone to school together, all that time ago. It was only two years past, but it felt like an eternity had gone by already. They'd even been in the same year, taken the exam at the same time, had several glasses together. It wasn't like they were close; to be honest, Lance had been kind of annoying back then, maybe even more so than he was now, always dogging on Keith's heels, calming himself the noirette's rival. But Keith had always feel a little bit of companionship with the brunet, because at least he was always there, and Keith never had to worry about losing him.

That's what he had thought anyway.

But then the incident had happened, a spell gone wrong that injured another student, broke several laws of physics, and had opened up Brakebills defenses, leaving them vulnerable to outside attack.

Keith hadn't meant for it to happen. It was supposed to have been a routine spell, but it had gone terribly off kilter, and Keith had been expelled. They'd taken his magic and his memory away, leaving him powerless and without an idea as to who he was.

That was until the Hedges had found him, stole back his magic, and returned his memory.

Keith hated Brakebills and Fogg for what they had done to him, to other Hedges like him. And maybe that was why he agreed to break into the school and the Library to steal from them. To get back at them for what they did, for making Keith feel like his life had no purpose.

"Keith!"

Romelle's voice called out to him, and he skidded to a halt right in front of the blonde Traveler. "Sorry I'm late," he blurted through panting breaths. Leaning forward, his hands on his knees, Keith felt sweat drip down his temples. His lungs burned from the lack of oxygen and his eyes stung.

"What took you so long?" the Hedge Witch all but screeched, already scrambling forward to out her hands on his shoulders. "Deep breath!"

Before he could even breath like Romelle had told him to, there was a whooshing sound in Keith's ears and for several milliseconds, he felt weightless before his feet slammed back onto the ground, sending shock waves through his legs at the force. Pins and needles stabbed at his muscles, static reaching all the way to his head as Keith whipped a hand out to steady himself. His fingers roughly stroked over what felt like a tree or maybe the side of a building, but his vision was splotchy, so he couldn't quite tell if that's what it was.

"Any luck, little one?"

A deeper, accented voice floated above Keith, and he felt the familiar sense of comfort sink into his bones at the sound, the pet name giving way to feelings of contentment that should have been suspicious. But Keith had always felt this way whenever  _ he _ was around. Rising to his full height, Keith's eyes struggled to focus in the man in front of him.

"Y-yeah," Keith stuttered out, his legs all but giving out beneath him. Slipping through time and space with a Traveler wasn't that bad, once you got used to it, but Keith had always been strangely affected by the journey. And Keith hadn’t been given any time to prepare his body or his mind before Romelle has blipped them in and out of existence. So he was having trouble getting his faculties back. "Yeah, I did, Lotor."

Keith fell forward against Lotor's chest, the tall man's arms immediately slipping around the noirette's shoulders to keep him from sprawling into the dirt. A rumble that could have been laughter or a sound of appreciation rolled through the white haired man's body yo shift over Keith's senses. 

Keith felt himself go weightless again, this time as Lotor lifted him up under his knees until he was basically cradling the noirette. That sense of comfort grew stronger now that he was in contact with his teacher, and it poured into Keith's veins to travel through them like honey. It mixed with his blood, warming him from the inside out.

Lotor, an exceptionally strong Hedge Witch that was the leader of their little "coven", had been the one to find and recruit Keith, giving him his magic and his memory back. From the moment he had taken Keith in, Lotor had taken a liking to him, always giving him extra lessons which he wouldn't give to anyone else. Recently, though, the man had become outwardly affectionate in his teachings, in the way the interacted with Keith. It was a little strange, to be sure, but it wasn't like Lotor's attentions were  _ unwanted _ or anything.

Keith rather liked it, the way Lotor would brush up against him while they trained their magic, the way he praised Keith. He liked the way that Lotor would lower his voice, making it sound as if it was dripping in sugary syrup. Keith thought it was rather sweet out he would let the noirette rest in his room when Keith overworked himself, much like today.

But still, he had to ask.

"Why are you always so nice to me?" Keith slurred out, his mind numbing as Lotor's magic meshed with his own, warning him of an impending slumber.

"Because you are my precious little one, Keith," Lotor replied, amusement in his voice. "You're such a good boy, so full of promise. I just have to."

The noirette preened at the compliment, his muddled senses giving rise to feelings of excitement at the praise. Keith felt as if he was floating as Lotor carried him through the building that was their base. Keith could tell that it was home; the sounds, the smells, the zapping of their wards as unwanted outsider's magic bounced off of them.

Several moments later, Keith was placed among plush pillows, downy comforters, and the scent of lavender that could only be that of Lotor's room that wrapped around Keith like silk.

"Sleep now, my little one," Lotor murmured against Keith's temple as he brushed a soft kiss there, and warmth blossomed in Keith's chest. "We will talk more about your mission when you wake, and I will give you ample reward for doing what I asked of you."

Keith nodded groggily, Lotor's honeyed voice pulling him further into the sense if comfort that the man seemed to embody, even though Keith was acutely aware that he was amplifying the words with magic. But the noirette found he didn't exactly care in that moment.

All the drama of the Library, seeing Lance, reminiscing about times long past that have rise to nightmares and restless nights, melted away. But even as he felt himself drift off to sleep, the blue of Lance's eyes mingled and mixed with the purple aura of Lotor's magic in Keith's mind’s eye.

Even as Keith lost all control of his consciousness, that feeling of wrong that he had had when Lance handed him the book tainted his sleep, producing fitful dreams of loss and fear.


	2. Potency

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing...
> 
> WARNINGS: Lotor, Mental Manipulation, Emotional Manipulation, Lying, Burns

It had to have been several hours later the next time Keith woke up, because the light coming from Lotor's bedroom window had sunk beneath the city skyline, casting red-tinged shadows over the room. Tired, cesious eyes blinked open as Keith snuggled further into the comforter that had been tucked under his chin.  _ Must have been Lotor. _ He was the only one, other than Keith obviously, that was allowed in this room, and Keith just wasn't the "tucked in" type.

Most of the time, he woke up without a blanket completely, having kicked it off in a fitful nightmare. They’d become less common the more time he spent here, but they still caused just as much strife.

"Did you sleep well?" Lotor's voice came from somewhere behind Keith, considering the noirette was curled up, facing the window. Keith stretched out his stiff limbs as he sat up, having spent too long in a single position. He scrubbed his fingers through his hair, using the other to wipe the sleep from his eyes. He hadn’t meant to sleep so long, but when he wasn’t able to prepare for Romelle’s Traveling, well, it caused some problems.

Turning, Keith found the Hedge Witch sitting in his desk chair, one leg gracefully crossed over the other with a book in his lap.

For a moment, a wave of panic sliced through Keith's chest, fearful that Lotor had gone through his bag to get the Hands-Free Spellcasting book, but as the man lightly closed the volume he held, Keith could see that it was far too thick to be  _ that _ particular book.

Keith wasn't entirely too sure why he didn't want Lotor to go through his bag, but the feeling was so potent that it lingered in his blood.

"Uhm," Keith muttered, trying to shake off that strange sense of panic that seemed so out of the ordinary. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so?" There was something tugging at the back of Keith's mind, like it was trying to get him to see the bigger picture. The only thing that he could see though was that there was something different about that book.

"Romelle said that you were late."

Keith felt himself tense at Lotor's words. The man wasn't too keen on tardiness, and Keith had seen his fair share of Hedges getting levels taken away for being late when Lotor had needed them.

"I...ran into...a bit of trouble," Keith muttered, voice low. He kept his eyes trained on the book in Lotor's lap, afraid to look into the man's eyes. If Lotor was disappointed in him, Keith didn't know what he would do. He wouldn't be able to stand it. Hell, he could barely stand when  _ anyone _ was disappointed in him; the fact that it would be Lotor only heightened the panic.

"Little one, look at me."

Lotor's voice was soft, kevel, but there was an echo of command throughout the words, and Keith found himself powerless to disobey. And so he lifted his grey eyes to lock them with Lotor's sapphire ones. There was no disappoint in those eyes, but still, Keith was afraid.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of Lotor's lips, and Keith felt something strange flit through his chest. Maybe it was disappointment in himself, or some kind of affectionate response to seeing the handsome Hedge smile at him. 

Taking the book from his lap, the man rested it on the hardwood desk just a few feet away, tucked into the corner of the room. "I am not angry with you, Keith," Lotor insisted, uncrossing his legs, keeping his eyes on the noirette as if he was trying to convey with more than just it his words.

Keith wasn't entirely convinced, though. Lotor was very good at hiding his true intentions and emotions. Keith knew how easy it was for the man to manipulate others, both with his words and with his magic, and he didn't want to be the victim of that, although he probably already was at this point. He trusted Lotor, probably more than he trusted anyone in the multiverse, but he wasn't stupid enough to not believe that Lotor would be anyone other than who he was.

In the end, Lotor sighed. "Keith, little one, come here to me." Once more, Keith found that he just couldn't not obey Lotor's words, the way they filtered through his eardrums compelling him, and he shuffled himself off of the bed. It was then that he noticed that his boots had been taken off, and he suspected it had been done by Lotor after he had been put to bed. Keith had been so exhausted that he didn't even register it as it was happening, a phenomenon that happened quite often, and would probably get him into trouble eventually. But for now, he had nothing to worry about. Lotor had promised to not do anything unless Keith wished it, and while Keith didn’t inherently believe most promises, he was obligated to believe what Lotor told him in this respect. 

The noirette slowly padded his way across the room to stand before his teacher, the man looking up at him with soft, affectionate eyes.

Lotor reached forward for the noirette's hands, which Keith offered willingly. He tugged lightly, and Keith found himself moving another step forward to stand between Lotor's knees. "I am not angry with you, little one," the man repeated, squeezing Keith's gloved hands in his own. He smiled up at Keith, well manicured brows pinched together. "I am just worried. I wouldn't want anything to happen to my precious student."

"Nothing happened, really," Keith admitted after a moment of playing the scenario over in his head, lifting a shoulder in a half-shrug. He had debated on making up an entire farce.. "I couldn't find the book at first so it took me longer to get back than usual." Well. At least _ that _ was true.

"You couldn't find it?" Lotor questioned, tilting his head as if to convey his confusion. "I thought you performed a locator spell."

Keith sighed. Yeah.  _ Exactly. _ That’s what he had said too, but apparently Lance had gotten to it first, which, frankly, confused the hell out of the noirette. Because how had Lance known he would need the book? "I did, but they must have moved it before I got there." It was a blatant lie, but Keith didn't exactly wish to bring Lance into this. He didn't want Lotor to even know that Lance  _ existed _ . Even as the words left his mouth, though, he could tell that Lotor suspected something.

"They moved it." The man spoke slowly, as if letting the words dance along his tongue so he could taste them before he said them. "Where did you find it, little one?" There was a strange sense of urgency in that sentence, and it made a bit of fear spike through Keith's blood.

"A few shelves over," Keith lied again. "They've had a lot of trainees in and out of there, putting books back, so one of them probably just put it in the wrong spot." It was a flimsy lie, but what else could Keith do? 

Lotor's eyes narrowed. He didn't believe a word of what the noirette was saying, Keith was sure, but Lotor didn't accuse him of anything.

"Well," he said, the subject seeming to be dropped for the time being; he released one of Keith's hands to reach up and tuck a stray lock of hair behind Keith's ear. "We are fortunate you were able to find it and not get caught."

_ Not by a Librarian anyway… _

Lotor's fingers trailed over Keith's cheek softly as he thought the words, and Keith found himself leaning into the touch, at the wave of comfort that filtered through his body and mind.

Lotor was very proficient in mood altering magic, and he was one of the few humans that were able to perform Hands-Free magic. Keith had asked about it before, since it was such a rare ability, one that you can't be born with. Apparently, Lotor had made a deal with a rare magical creature, giving up his family name for the ability to use Hands-Free magic. Keith was sure that Lotor wasn't telling him the entire truth, or any of it for that matter, but that was fairly normal. The man never told more than he thought he could benefit from.

"So...very fortunate," Lotor said once more, his voice no more than a whisper as he gazed up into Keith's cesious eyes. The noirette felt himself leaning forward. There was so much emotion in Lotor's eyes, affection, desire, pride, that it drew Keith in like a spell. Maybe it was a spell. To be honest, Keith wouldn't put it past the Hedge Witch. He felt his eyes begin to close, felt like Lotor was drawing him in. Under normal, non magic induced, circumstances, Keith would never do this.

Keith was...not so much into the whole touchy feely aspect of things, even when they had to do with someone he felt like he was genuinely attracted to, like Lotor. But there was just something about the way the energy around them charged the room. Their magic mingled together as they came closer, and it almost made Keith want to drop all of his defenses and just give himself over to Lotor, to let himself melt into the other's touch.

But he couldn't.

There was something tugging at his memory, pulling him away from this situation. It called to him, some lost feeling that he never got back after Brakebills took his memory away.

So in the end, as their breaths mingled and Lotor's lips were just a hair's breadth away from his own, Keith put his forehead against Lotor's. The hand that had been freed when Lotor had tucked Keith's hair behind his ear came up to rest on Lotor's chest.

"I can't," Keith whispered, and he could feel the disappointment in the man’s change of posture, his shoulders slumping forward only a fraction.

"I know, my little one," Lotor replied, nudging against Keith's nose with his own. "I am sorry that I pushed you. I shouldn't have used a spell on you." Leaning back, the man smiled up at Keith, but he didn't move his from the smaller man's cheek. He did, however, tug at Keith's other hand, drawing Keith ever closer. "I promised to not do anything unless you wish me to, and I broke that promise. Do you forgive me?"

Something about Lotor's words and the way he tugged the noirette closer that made Keith feel on edge, but he nodded anyway.  _ I don't mind Lotor's attention, _ he reminded himself. It was true, he didn't. He  _ liked _ it, the favoritism, because no one had ever shown him anything of the like. 

But...

Even so, if Keith focused hard enough, he could feel dark and slithering at the edge of Lotor's magic...something that didn’t seem, well.

...

Human.

There was a sudden knock on the door to Lotor's room, and Keith jumped at the sound, jolting from Lotor's reach to stand near the bed. One manicured, white eyebrow quirked in amusement as the taller man watched Keith scramble away. A light blush rocketed into Keith's face, embarrassment flooding his veins. It wasn't that he didn't want anyone to see him with Lotor; quite the opposite really. It made pride sing in his chest when others noted how close they seemed. But still...this was a rather intimate moment being interrupted.

Maybe Keith should have been worried about how badly he was affected by everything that happened when he was near Lotor, he should have noticed that it wasn’t right, that it wasn’t how he usually acted. But he supposed that that was just another part of what Lotor did to him. 

He acted unlike himself.

And maybe that was a good thing?

Keith honestly was unable to tell.

"Yes, you may enter," Lotor called when the knock sounded again, a smirk on his features as Keith tried to hide his flaming cheeks.

"I thought I heard voices, so I assumed that Keith was awake." Romelle stepped into the room, her cynical gaze flicking between the coven's leader and Keith. An eyebrow of her own raised, but she didn't press the issue. From behind her, Keith was just able to catch a long, blonde ponytail fly by as another Hedge hopped down the stairs. Romelle must have seen him looking, because she stepped further into the room, blocking the way if only slightly.

“Yeah, I'm awake," Keith said, lamely, choosing to ignore Romelle’s odd behavior.

Lotor stood from his chair and stepped over to Keith. "You must be hungry after sleeping for most of the day, and I would say traveling with Romelle took quite a lot out of you. Why don't we see what Zethrid has cooked up, and we can talk more about the book then?"

“Zethrid’s cooking today? Are you sure you want to subject yourself to that?” Romelle said from the doorway, an incredulous look on her face. 

Ignoring the blonde, Keith glanced up at Lotor, at the amusement that made his blue eyes glitter as the afternoon sun bounced off of them. He felt a little if his embarrassment fade away as the man looked at him, gave all his attention to him even though Romelle was standing just in the doorway.

The blonde Traveler even seemed to notice the difference in attentions, because the woman cleared her throat before crossing her arms over her chest. Keith knew that Romelle didn't actually like Lotor all that much, or at all really, but they were cousins, so she was sort of obligated to listen to him. Or...  _ That's what Lotor says anyway. _

"Stop your flirting and let's go," Romelle called as she rolled her eyes, turning away when Lotor reached up to ruffle Keith's hair.

"Only because you asked so nicely, Rommy," Lotor replied.

"Don't call me that, you creep."

Lotor chuckled and smiled down at Keith as Romelle pounded down the stairs, leaving without them, her twin-tails bouncing as she went. "She shows her affection in strange ways, does she not?"

Keith only shrugged. He would never understand these two.   
  


* * *

"It still doesn't make sense to me."

Keith was sure he'd said that exact sentence at least a dozen times since they had begun a half hour ago. Standing as he was in the drawn out chalk-circle in the middle of their training room, he had Lotor to his right and Romelle to his left. There were several other Hedges around, but Lotor had deemed it unnecessary that anyone else participate. This was supposed to he a  _ private _ training session, as if they could get any privacy in the training room of the coven's converted warehouse/mansion. It had taken a good deal of money and magic to make it liveable, but Lotor's family was well connected, even though he  _ apparently _ gave all of that up.

"Just concentrate, Keith," Lotor repeated again for, no surprise, the twelfth time. Under normal circumstances, Lotor would have already walked into the circle, moving behind Keith to help him situate his hands in the right way to make the spell work. But this was hands-free magic, and Keith would just have to figure it out on his own.

"I am, but--"

"If you are talking, you aren't concentrating, little one."

…

Well, okay  _ maybe _ that was true, but how was Keith supposed to concentrate when he didn't understand what in the hell he was even attempting to do!? Even the simplest of spells required a finger movement or two, that was what he had been taught and it was a hard habit to break. It wasn't something he could just change in one session, no matter how much he wanted to.

"Yeah, but, I just..."

"Stop trying to think of how to do it without the hand movement," someone behind the small training group piped in, separating from the spectating crowd. It was Acxa, Lotor's second in command and their resident ward expert. "Instead try to envision the hand movement in your head. So you're not physically doing it, but your subconscious is."

That...actually made a fair bit of sense, to be honest.

Taking a breath, Keith held his hands aloft, palms forward. The spell he was trying to do, after reading through the short  _ For Dummies _ manual (that had been a load of bullshit just like he thought), was a basic illusion spell. It was supposed to conjure a golden butterfly.

_ Illusions aren't my strong suit, _ Keith thought, knitting his brows together as he attempted to see the three finger movements that the spell required. Even when he had been back at Brakebills, he had failed the midterm for his Cultural Illusions class at least twice. He'd had to have...Adam...help him.

Right.  _ Adam. _ It had been a long time since Keith has thought of him. Adam had always been one of the people he went to when he was struggling, aside from Takashi, both of them being a few years ahead of him.

_ Maybe I shouldn't have...he'd still be alive if I hadn't. _

"Keith, focus."

Lotor's words cut through his darkening thoughts when Keith’s fingers sparked, the command simple but it sent licks of wariness through Keith's veins. "Sorry," he muttered, blinking slowly as he tried to clear his mind again before he just closed them completely. He had to remember, hands-free magic could be dangerous, so focus was key..  _ It’s simple, _ he told himself, cesious eyes focusing on something in the middle distance.  _ Three movements. _ He pictured them, one after the other, over and over, but there was no change.

Sweat beaded on his brow, noirette bangs becoming glued to his forehead. He was pouring so much of his magical power into his hands, trying to get the golden butterfly to just  _ appear _ .

Unfortunately, it seemed like today was not the day for Hands-Free magic. After almost an hour of standing there, focusing on his hands and nothing else, dumping his entire body's supply of magic into them, Keith felt his grip on reality slip. His eyes snapped open to see magic surging through his arms, blue fire licking up his limbs.

"Keith! Let it go!"

Lotor's voice sounded like it was coming through a glass tube. It seemed so far away, but Keith knew that the white haired man was only mere feet away.

"Get him out of the circle!"

Suddenly, Keith felt himself tipping forward, and his mind vaguely whispered,  _ Huh. Well this is gonna hurt. _ The world around him spun and the ground was coming up far too quickly.

But then Lotor was there, scooping Keith's limp body into his arms.

"What the hell happened?" the noirette heard Romelle cry, the clicking of her footsteps sounding canned as she came forward. "He was fine a moment ago."

Lotor's voice rumbled against Keith's ear as he snuggled into the man's chest. "Hands-free magic is a tricky thing to get a grasp on. It's a skill not everyone can handle right away. Keith placed all of his energy into his hands, and well, you can see where that got him. It was the wrong way to go about it but we didn't tell him otherwise." Lotor paused, and his voice changed, worry lining the surface. "He won't be able to do any magic for some time, at least until his hands heal."

Huh. Now that Lotor mentioned it, Keith's hands did burn a little, but not strongly enough that it was unbearable. Instead, it felt as if he had been cutting hot peppers, and he had gotten the juice all over them. It was a slight stinging feeling. In the back of his mind, he knew that they were going to hurt like hell later when his consciousness wasn't so muddled, but for now he held them close to his chest and let Lotor's lavender scent wash over him.

He supposed he should have been scared. He'd done something similar before when trying to replicate an illusion spell, the spell that has gotten him expelled. Last time, though he hasn't been the one hurt.  _ So I guess that's the bright side this time. I didn't hurt anyone but myself. _

"Would you find Narti for me, Acxa?" Lotor asked, and Keith felt himself swaying a little bit as the man walked. "She's dealt with this kind of magic-induced burn before, so she should be able to heal it rather easily."

"Yes, sir."

"Keith? Are you awake, my little one?"

Lotor called to him, and Keith blinked open his eyes. Everything was still spinning, but he nodded nevertheless, not wanting to make Lotor think that he was ignoring him. That was the last thing Keith wanted.

Time blinked for a moment, and the next thing Keith knew, he was being placed in a bed in their makeshift infirmary. His mind was a little more focused now, and he could open his eyes without the room titling. And now that he was more awake, fucking  _ hell _ did his hands hurt.

"Fucking... _ ow _ ..."

"I know, little one." Lotor was standing above him, worry creasing his handsome features. "Narti will have it all healed in not time; don't you fret." Keith turned his head and saw the healer nod at him. He wasn't sure when she had gotten here. Hell, Keith wasn't sure when  _ he _ had gotten here, but she was perched on the edge of the bed next to him. She smiled reassuringly and held her hands out, motioning for Keith to do the same.

Narti was a strange one. She was one of the best healers in the city, having graduated from Brakebills with flying honors, but she chose to join the Hedges, just because lotor had asked her to. She was blind, Keith was fairly certain, and she kept a silk blindfold over her eyes at all times. She seemed to be mute as well, but was able to communicate using other, weirder means.

Keith went to reach for Narti, her fingers doing little  _ come hither _ motions, but he stopped when his eyes focused on his hands. He was stunned at the state of them. They were stained black, the skin bubbling and blistering as if he had touched an inferno. And maybe he had, a wildfire of his own making, because he could still see little skitters of blue flame rising from the wounds every now and then. They looked as if they were already beginning to fester.

"Wh-what the hell!?" Keith croaked, the pain rising as he moved his fingers.

"Hush, darling," Lotor cooed, sitting behind Keith on the infirmary bed, the mattress dipping under his weight enough that Keith was forced to lean back against Lotor's chest. "Your magic has always been exceptionally potent, and when you focused all of it on your hands, it burned you. Narti will be able to stop the flow of magic, stifle it for the time being, but you won't be able to perform any spells for a time."

Lotor was talking, and probably making perfect sense, but Keith couldn't really understand him. He was too busy trying not to panic at the sight of his hands. It was a shock to his system, having never felt this kind of immense pain before. Breathing rapidly, the noirette glanced between their burnt surface and Narti's silken blindfold. Her palms were facing upwards, directly underneath Keith's hands. From his vantage point, it looked as if she was pulling the magic out of them, blue flame connecting the two together as it pulsed.

"I...I won't..."

The noirette's vision blackened suddenly, Lotor's hand covering his eyes. "Keith, my dear little one, calm yourself. It will be alright." Keith took several deep breaths, trying to find that calm that Lotor always managed to embody, but no matter what he did, the pain was too much. The man's other arm wrapped around Keith's middle, tugging the noirette against his chest even more. He felt the mattress in front of him dip as Narti moved forward to compensate.

"I have a question for you, Keith."

"Wh-what?" Lotor's words almost caught Keith off guard. He had been so focused on attempting to get his breathing under control, trying to not think about the pain in his hands that he almost forgot that anyone else was in the room with him.

Lotor hummed, and the sound reverberated against Keith's back. Raven tresses picked up as Lotor's breath ghosted over Keith's ear. The air was warm, and it sent an odd little shiver down his spine, which he immediately ignored. "Well, it is more of a request."

"What is it?" Keith wondered. Lotor didn't really request things of people; he either ordered or commanded. Even when he sent Keith out on missions, it was more of a command, something that he couldn't refuse. But a request was different in the way that--

"You can always say no if you wish to."

...

_ Yeah, that. _ Well, now Keith was curious. If this really was a  _ request _ and not a command, what in the world could it be, especially coming from Lotor?

"What kind of request?" he asked, his eyes still covered beneath the cool skin of Lotor's hand. Lotor always has cold hands, and despite it having become a problem once or twice before, Keith was currently grateful for the chill. His cheeks were flushed from panic, and they felt almost as hot as his hands did.

"You will not be able to use magic for a while, as I said before," Lotor began. Keith nodded, his hair scratching against Lotor's cheek as he did so. The man's voice was so soft and it rumbled through Keith's chest. "So I wanted to request that you assist me with some...non-magical matters while you heal."

…

_ What…? _

"Non...magical?" Keith repeated.  _ What kind of matters could those be? _

"Indeed," Lotor agreed, finally pulling his hand from Keith's eyes. Blinking several times, the noirette looked down at his hands and tried to focus on them. He still felt panic shuddering through his entire body, slicing through his veins like icy flames, but as he looked at his hands, he noticed that they appeared to be almost completely back to normal.

In front of him, Narti was shaking out her hands, the little blue sparks that has erupted from Keith's burns now following her motions. The healer must have felt Keith looking, or maybe she could him looking considering the creepy cat that served as her eyes was standing just at her feet. She reached forward a placed her pointer finger against Keith's forehead.

_ I am all right, young one _ , Narti told him, her thoughts filtering into his mind through the contact.  _ This is nothing I haven't handled before, and I would gladly do it again for you. Do not worry about me. Focus on healing the rest of the way. _ The woman withdrew her hand and stood up, her curtain of inky hair falling over his shoulder as she did so, probably to go help some other injured Hedge. The infirmary was always filled with people having done spells the wrong way. Magic-induced injuries were no uncommon occurrence with Hedges; it was kind of a given, considering their lack of sophisticated research materials.

"The rest of the way?" Keith asked quietly once Narti was gone, pondering the idea before turning his head slightly to look up at Lotor. "What did she mean by that?"

Lotor hugged Keith to his chest, resting his chin on top of raven locks. Humming, he answered, "Healing magic-induced injuries is...complicated. The way Narti heals is by taking the excess magic that is hurting you away, so your natural supply is low. You will need to do several meditation exercises per day until you fill up naturally on magic."

"Oh." Keith pursed his lips. He wasn't really one for meditation. It was a difficult concept to master, and back at Brakebills, because he wasn’t a psychic major, he hasn't needed to do much of it beyond the base level.

Keith watched his hands once again, flexing his fingers slightly. It still hurt, still felt that same pepper juice soaked sensation as before. If he looked closely enough, titled them in just the right way, he could see shining, jagged scars, but he was pale enough that they didn't show much.

…

_ Wait a minute... _

"Wasn’t I wearing gloves before?" Keith questioned, brows punching together. Those are his  _ favorite _ gloves! Did Lotor take them off? 

"Hm?" Lotor hummed, as if Keith's words had pulled him from some deep thought process. "Oh, your gloves?" Keith nodded, bumping Lotor's chin up several times. "I think you burnt them off earlier. You had flames covering the full expanse of your arms." Lotor squeezed Keith's middle a little tighter. "I'm surprised that more of your clothing wasn't burned into ash."

"Well, shit..." Keith muttered. It had taken him months to find gloves that had fit comfortably, made of a fabric that didn't chafe when he cast spells.

"Don't you worry, my little one. I will find you a new pair."

They sat in silence for several moments, Keith annoyed at himself for not having better control over magic, Lotor off in some other world. It was a comfortable silence, to be sure, but Keith was starting to become restless, which made him uncomfortable.

"Lotor?"

"Yes, little one?"

"Can you let me go?"

"Oh, yes,” the man said, jolting slightly at the request. “My apologies."

Lotor slid his arms from Keith's middle, and the noirette immediately hopped off the infirmary bed to stand beside it, looking down at Lotor. The man was smiling at him, just as he always did when they were more or less alone, that same affectionate look in his eyes, but that feeling of wrongness in the back of Keith's mind had returned now that the pain and wonderment had faded.

"I'm...gonna go...uh, take a walk?" Keith said, the end of his sentence coming up in a questioning air. It wasn't that he didn't like spending time with Lotor. He did, but Keith was never one to stay in one place for too long. It made him feel...trapped, cornered. He'd already made a mess of things twice that day, and he still had that book in Niffins to check out.

"Of course. I cannot stop you if you wish to venture out."

That was a lie. Lotor could stop anyone from doing anything if he wished to. It was no different with Keith, but he had learned long ago not to speak against Lotor, even though the man had told him that his opinions were always ready to be heard. Keith didn't want to make things difficult for anyone, least if all himself.

So in the end, Keith nodded, turning in his heel to rush from the infirmary. That feeling of wrongness dogged his steps, and just as all the other times, he couldn't out s finger on what exactly felt  _ wrong _ . Even as he made his way back to the kitchen, where he had left his bag and the two books, it stayed on the back of his neck, whispering in his ear that something wasn't right, that there was something that wished him harm.

It was a strange feeling, and it did nothing for his already frazzled nerves after almost kissing Lotor that day and burning his hands I to a crisp.

"Keith, where are you going?" Ezor, another of Lotor's higher ups, was calling to him.

"Out!" he yelled back, not stopping in his journey toward the door. "Acxa, I'm opening the doors!" he called out. The woman wasn't around, but she'd be able to hear him nonetheless. She had eyes and ears all over that building.

He yanked the door open and dashed through, letting the heavy metal lock click behind him as he pulled up his hood, masking his face from any prying eyes. Raven tresses curled around the fabric like claws as he ran into one of the back alleys of the city, darkness encircling him like he was born to reside in its chilly embrace.

Keith wasn't sure  _ where _ he was going to go, but if he let his feet just take him there, he was positive that they wouldn't lead him astray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still have no idea what I'm doing...
> 
> Maybe the next chapter will be better
> 
> hah, who am I kidding xD


End file.
